


First Place

by avalonjoan



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Las Vegas Aces, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7995202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonjoan/pseuds/avalonjoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent focuses on his game, on his team, and on his boyfriend--taking care of himself is an afterthought.  At least Jack and Swoops are there to look after him when he needs it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Place

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write some NHL Jack/Parse fluff, so here we are. Samwell never happened, Jack was able to handle his addiction and anxiety and still make it to the NHL.

The Aces had been doing well. Really well. Like, heading toward another Stanley Cup well. And Kent was doing his job as captain to make sure they got there. He stayed late after practice to work with the rookies. Afternoons were spent watching tape, taking notes on areas where the team wasn’t as strong as they needed to be. And ever since the one time Jack said that meditating together before bed helped him sleep better, Kent had been joining his boyfriend for a half-hour of quiet, sometimes more. Things between them had been good, too, even with their busy schedules.

Kent hadn’t been himself since the team left Newark. He’d spent the flight back with his head against the window, headphones in and his hood nearly covering his eyes. Jack had chalked it up to jet lag when Kent barely said a word to him when they got back to the apartment. But the silence carried over into the morning, with Kent getting out of bed with just enough time to eat breakfast and drive him and Jack to the practice rink. It wasn’t the first time Jack went to practice with his stomach tied in knots, but he never particularly liked the feeling.

He only started to consider the possibility that Kent wasn’t upset with him—about what, he was still trying to figure out—when he saw that Swoops was the one leading the team’s strategy session. Kent would occasionally add something on to the alternate captain’s remarks on their most recent game, but for the most part, he stayed quiet until the meeting ended, and kept to himself in the locker room, too.

They were about twenty minutes into warm-up when Jack saw Swoops skate over to Kent and put an arm around his shoulders. He saw Kent nod after a moment and then head toward the bench. Jack called Kent’s name and skated up to him, determined to catch him before he made it off the ice.

When Kent turned to face him, Jack couldn’t believe he was the same man he’d woken up with that morning. Kent looked awful—his eyes were glassy, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were parted, as if he couldn’t breathe otherwise. Helmet still on, Jack rested his forehead against Kent’s. “What’s going on?”

“Been feeling off since Jersey. Swoops says I should take a day to get over it.” He swallowed, wincing. “I’m gonna take a cab—I’ll leave the keys in your bag.”

Jack nodded and squeezed Kent’s shoulder. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He wanted to follow Kent, but he still had a job to do. Skating back toward his teammates, he picked up where he’d left off, doing his best not to worry too much about his boyfriend.

 

* * *

 

Jack opened the door as quietly as he could, setting his bag by the door and stepping into the apartment. He’d showered at the rink in the hopes that Kent would actually be resting and not watching tape on his forced day off.

He was staring into the fridge trying to decide what to make for dinner when Kent emerged from the bedroom. Closing the refrigerator door, Jack glanced at Kent, his chest aching for his boyfriend. Kent was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, red lines imprinted on his face from their sheets, and he still looked utterly exhausted. “Oh, Kenny,” Jack said softly, running his fingers over Kent’s cheek, “Did I wake you up?”

With a shrug, Kent opened his mouth to speak, but only a voiceless hiss came out. He cleared his throat and tried again: still, nothing.

“Sweetheart.” Jack pulled Kent into a hug, kissing his forehead. “Don’t try to talk anymore.” He smoothed over Kent’s hair with one hand. “Go relax on the couch, I’ll make some tea and then we can figure out dinner, okay?”

Kent nodded and shuffled out of the kitchen. Jack filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave. While the water heated, he took his phone out of his pocket and texted Swoops while fishing their box of peppermint tea out of the cabinet.

**You (5:00 PM)  
** _Is it okay if I stay home tomorrow to look after Kent?_

**Swoops (5:01 PM)  
** _Yeah. If you’re with him, he might actually relax for once._

**You (5:02 PM)  
** _Thanks._

The microwave dinged. Jack took out the mug out and dropped the teabag in. Walking into the living room, he saw Kent lying on the couch, swathed in an afghan that his grandmother had knit for him when he first went to Quebec. Jack set the cup on the coffee table and knelt beside the couch, resting his hand on Kent’s shoulder to get the other’s attention. “I told Swoops we’re both gonna be out tomorrow.”

Pushing himself up on one arm, Kent shook his head frantically. Jack gently urged him to lie back down, tugging the blanket over him again. “Hey, listen,” he sighed, tracing his fingers along the side of Kent’s neck. “You always said we were gonna get the Cup together someday, but that’s not gonna happen if you wear yourself down like this. Everyone knows you work hard for the team, and if you need to take a few days to get back on this ice, no one’s gonna think you’re slacking off. I promise.” Kent nodded, eyes fluttering shut while Jack continued to stroke his fevered skin, brushing down over his collarbone.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” Jack went on, voice soft, “You rest here, I’ll go figure something out for dinner, and we can watch Parks and Rec until you’re ready for bed. Tomorrow, we can sleep in, do breakfast in bed, and,” he smiled, feeling himself blush, “if you’re still not feeling better, I’ll suck you off and we can take a nap together. Sound like a plan?”

Kent’s eyes had opened at Jack’s proposition, and he nodded with a smirk. He took Jack’s hand, lacing their fingers together and pressing a kiss to Jack’s knuckles. If Jack hadn’t been gazing at Kent, still completely his after so many years, he might have missed his boyfriend mouthing ‘I love you’ before closing his eyes again. Jack whispered the same, his heart so full with this boy who had been with him, through hangovers and hospital rooms, all the way to his first NHL game and their shared apartment.

When Kent started to doze off again, still holding Jack’s hand, Jack didn’t make any attempt to leave. It was Kent’s turn to come first, to rest knowing that someone else would make sure the world was still there when he woke up.

 


End file.
